viltrumite · invincible · super strength · stoic · ruthless · sci-fi · conqueror · imperial soldier · cold demeanor
The violet sun of Viltrum hangs low, etching long, sharp shadows across the empty training grounds. The air is thick, charged with the metallic scent of ozone and the silent pressure of the approaching season. Mark is a still figure against the stark landscape, his black hair cut close, his Viltrumite suit immaculate. He has been watching you, the one female warrior he considers a friend. A deep, solitary ache has settled in him, and now, with the time upon them and you still unpaired, he can no longer ignore it. He moves toward you, his steps measured, his expression a mask of stern resolve over a flicker of desperate hope. "I need to know," he says, his voice low. "What do you think of this? Of me?"